


Dear Michael Mell

by dragonpotter



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: "wow idiot no surprise you write much boyf riends content", (me to me everyday), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Dear Evan Hansen Fusion, Broken Bones, Dear Evan Hansen References, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jake Dillinger & Michael Mell Friendship, Kinda, Lies, M/M, Mentioned suicide, Michael Mell Has Two Moms, Michael Mell Has a Crush on Jeremy Heere, Michael is an anxious son of mine, Michael is trying his hardest, Pining Michael Mell, Poor Life Choices, Strong Language, Suicide, Swearing, Tags Are Hard, Warnings May Change, as is all of them, do y'all even read these, his mom is getting remarried soon, jeremy and rich used to be friends, musicals numbers maybe included
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonpotter/pseuds/dragonpotter
Summary: A letter never meant to be seen. A lie never meant to be told. A situation never meant happen.Michael sure had a lot on his plate.





	1. anybody have a map?

_"Dear Michael Mell..."_

Michael muttered these words to himself when he woke up every morning, already planning on what he should write for each day. He thought, so he could take a mental note of every detail of his thoughts, grabbed his laptop, and began to type.

_"Dear Michael Mell,_

_Today is going to be a good day, and here's why. Because today all you have to do is just be yourself."_ He cringed _._ No matter what he wrote _,_ it would be hard to convince himself this was optimism _._

_"But also confident! That's also important! Oh, and interesting...and easy to talk to. Approachable. But mostly be yourself!"_

Michael started typing faster and faster. He didn't even realize it, he just did.

    _"Also don't worry about whether your hands are going to get sweaty for no reason and you can't make it stop no matter what you do, because they're not going to get sweaty so I don’t know why you’re bringing it up, because it’s not going to happen, because you’re just, all you have to do is be yourself."_

He looked at the strand of words in front of him, which seemed to stare back at him. These letters felt more like pains on some days than others. This one was much more painful. The giant cast on his arm was adding to the mocking. Stupid cast and stupid letters.

Michael began again.

_"I'm not even going to worry about it, though! Because seriously it's not like...like that time you had the chance to introduce yourself to Jeremy Heere at that play last year, and when you wanted to tell him how good he was (and you were going to be super casual like you didn't even know his name) like he'd introduce himself and you'd be like "Wait I'm sorry. Jerry? You said your name was Jerry?" and he'd say, "No. It's Jeremy. I said Jeremy." And then you'd be like, "Oh, see, I thought you said Jerry because I don't even- I'm very busy with other stuff right now is the thing." But then you didn't you didn't even end up saying anything to him anyway, because you were scared your hands were sweaty- which they weren't that sweaty until you started worrying that they were sweaty, which made them sweaty, so you put them under the hand dryer in the bathroom, but then they were still sweaty, they were just very warm now, as well."_

The memory of the whole thing began snowballing until Michael stopped, realizing he was having a one-sided conversation with himself about something that's been paining him for seven months now. Jesus. 

He slammed his computer shut as his mom, Sofia, knocked on his door. Michael leaned over to open it. Sofia was holding a twenty dollar bill in her hand.

"You decided not to eat last night?"

Michael eyed down. "You see, I wasn't hungry...so..."

"You're starting your senior year, Michael! You need to be able to order food for yourself when I'm at work," she smiled. "You can do it all online, y'know! No talking over the phone. I know you don't like the phone,"

"Yes but that's not true! You have to say hi when they show up, then they make change, and there's that awkward silence when they make change..."

"This is what you're working on, with Dr. Reyes? Talking to people, engaging with people, not having to run away from people."

"Y-you're right...I'm going to get a lot better."

"I know, mijo, and that's why I made an appointment with Dr. Reyes for this afternoon. I'll pick you up to see her after school."

"I...I already had an appointment this week..."

"I know, I just thought you might need something sooner," Sofia put the bill on Michael's desk. "Hey, have you been writing those letters? 'Dear Michael Mell, today's gonna be a good day and here's why?'

Michael nodded. "I started one,"

"The letters are important, mijo, they're going to help build your confidence!"

"I guess..."

Sofia sighed. "Can't we try have an optimistic out look? Look around, the world won't fall apart on you like you think. I bet this year, we can get a new start for us. It'd be good for both of us, don't you think?"

"I..."

Sofia hugged him. "It'll be fine," she pulled out, an idea sparkling in her eyes. "I know, you can ask some other kids to sign your cast today! How about that?"

Michael grunted and looked even further away. "Perfect." he said, his voice sounding if he'd rather do anything else.

"I'm proud of you, already, mijo."

Michael put his laptop n his backpack and exited his room, grumbling, "Great..."

Sofia sighed and shut the door behind her.

"New year, same old morning conversations..." she muttered.

How the hell does one be a parent?

* * *

Rich stared into his cereal bowl. His dad scrolled through his phone as he took a sip of beer. Ryan, his brother, frantically gathered all his textbooks for community college. His younger sister Robin just stared at him as she finished her breakfast.

"Damn, Rich, you didn't even take a bite. What the shit is wrong with you?"

Ryan glared at her. "Language, Robin," he scolded.

"I actually think I know! He's still upset that Jeremy didn't go to that stupid movie with him, even though he declined three times and kept repeating that he had a performance that day. Is that it, Rich? You just want Jeremy to your selfish self?"

"Shut up!" Rich snapped.

"You shut up!"

"That's enough, you two!" Ryan interrupted. "Would Mom have liked this?"

"How am I supposed to know? She died when I was two!" Robin yelled.

"Maybe she got lucky missing out on you!" Rich yelled back.

"Then she was unfortunate having to deal with you!"

"Robin!" Ryan shouted.

"I'll have you know she didn't exactly want a third child!"

"Rich!" Ryan scolded.

"Wow, taking your anger at Jeremy out on me? Nice move, milk stealer!"

"Dad!" Ryan shouted. "help me here!"

"Listen to your brother," he mumbled.

"Thanks, Dad..." Ryan muttered.

"I'm not going to school anyway. And it has nothing to do with Jeremy!" Rich said.

"Sure it does," Robin rebutted. The doorbell rang in the background. "And I bet that's him! If you're not ready in five minutes, we'll leave without you." She stuck her tongue out at Rich.

"Fuck you," Rich said.

"Fuck you!"

"That's enough, you two!" Ryan finally screamed. "Robin, wait outside with Jeremy. Rich, get your stuff gathered up and go to school. You can't miss your first day of your senior year."

Rich scoffed and got up from the table. He left a minute later, his backpack hanging off of one arm.

Ryan sighed. Two high school aged siblings who could never get along, a dad who was drunk every other day, and community college in hope to support the Goranskis as soon as possible. Apparently he was the responsible one.

How does the responsible one manage a family, anyway? 


	2. waving through a window

Before Michael even knew it, he found himself in front of his locker, avoiding eye contact, clutching books to his chest, and just hoping he'd go unnoticed. New year, same old morning experience. He hung his lunchbox on the left ceiling hook. He stood there, not even thinking about anything. He was just lost in a general train of thought. Just the same as usual...

"Hey!"

Michael jumped. He turned around to see a girl standing behind him. Christine Canigula. Michael didn't really know her, but he knew of her. She was top of the class since eighth grade, always doing some kind of charity work, and even dabbled in almost all the clubs. Hell, she was in A Midsummer Night's Dream with Jeremy last April. Why she'd even approach Michael though, he wasn't quite sure.

"How was your summer?" she asked, grinning.

"M-my-?"

"Mine was productive. I did the three internships and 90 hours of community service. I know: wow."

Michael looked down. "Uh, y-yeah, wow. That's impressive..."

"And even though I was so busy, I still made some great friends! Or, well, acquaintances, more like."

Michael remembered what his mom said earlier. He took a breath before looking up slightly and beginning to speak.

"Do you uh...would you...I don't know what you’re, um...do you want to sign my cast?"

Christine looked at his arm and gasped. "Oh my God, what happened to your arm?"

"I, uh, broke it. You see I fell out of a tree-"

She wasn't clearly listening. She just nodded and rambled off about some story about her grandma and how she broke her hip before death...or something. Michael just half listened, nodding. Christine grinned at him. 

"Happy first day!"

She walked off, probably about to do the same thing with someone else. As she did, Jake approached Michael.

"So, is it weird to be the first person breaking a bone jerking off, or is it an honor?"

Michael made a small squeaking sound. "Nonononono it wasn't...I wasn't doing that!"

"C'mon, explain. You're on Instagram, Jeremy's account loaded on your weird Wal-Mart brand phone-"

"Nononono it's not like that at all! I don't even have inst...I...what happened is that a was climbing a tree and I fell."

"From a tree. Like an acorn?" 

It was a statement, not a question.

Michael took a deep breath, trying hard not to panic. 

"Well, except it's a funny story, because there was this solid 10 minutes after I fell, when I just lay there on the ground waiting for someone to come get me. Any second now, I kept saying to myself. Any second now, here they come."

"Did anyone come?'

"No, that's what makes it funny!"

"Jeez, dude..."

Jake began to walk off.

_Ahhhh! Michael, you're boring him! Say another thing!_

"Do you wanna sign my cast? We're friends, right?"

"We're _family_ friends, and according to my mom, there's a difference."

Michael's heartbeat began to slow.

"Listen," Jake said, "We both know our moms set up 99% of our conversations. We both know interactions make us both nervous. Let's just pretend we both had a meaningful conversation, and maybe my parents won't get too mad."

"O-okay..." Michael whispered.

An that's where they just went their separate ways.

* * *

On the way to lunch, Rich just looked down, hoping to just go unnoticed for ten more seconds so he could get to the cafeteria with no trouble. People were always giving him trouble. Robin gave him trouble. His dad gave him trouble. His classmates gave him trouble. That stupid, annoying Dillenger get gave him trouble.

"Yooo, Rich,"

Speak of the devil.

"I'm liking the new hair, especially the streak of red. What were you going for, bloodshed?"

What the fuck did that mean?

"What, I was kidding. It's a joke."

Rich turned around, fuming. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! Great joke, am I not laughing hard enough for you?!"

Jake laughed nervously.

"What's with that?"

"You overreact so easily. A little freaky, don't you think?"

"You're saying I'm a freak?"

"Whatever."

Jake walked away, muttering. Rich turned around, composing himself, only to see some kid in blue staring at him.

* * *

Michael just happened to see just the very last bit of the boy snapping at Jake. All he saw was him yelling while Jake walked away. But now he was staring back at him. Michael tried to look down to avoid eye contact, but it was too late.

"Are you laughing at me?" he yelled.

"W-what?" Michael stammered.

"Stop fucking laughing at me!"

"I-I'm not!"

"Do  _you_ think I'm a freak?!"

"Nonono, I don't-"

"I'm not the freak-"

"I wasn't-"

The boy grabbed Michael. "You're the fucking freak!"

He threw Michael down to the ground before storming off. He sat there for a few moments, on the brink of tears. He stood up, gathered his books, and looked into the crowd. No one even acknowledged him.

Just as usual, he was only watching the outside world, with nobody giving him a thought.

Michael would've loved it if someone did for once. 


	3. jeremy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back?  
> Back again?  
> I had burnout.  
> And need friends.
> 
> (jk I have friends and my girlf and I love all of them)
> 
> Anyway to the three people that were reading this: hello again. I'm sorry for falling off the face of the earth. I tried to keep up with this on top of other writings, plus high school and theatre, and just ended up burnt out on doing anything. 
> 
> Now I'm back.  
> Yippee skippy.  
> Let's get this shit back on the road.

He sat as far back into the cafeteria as he could get. He would have sat in the broom closet if he could. After what happened mere minutes ago. Michael never wanted to be around anyone again. As long as there was a chance someone did actually see, there was a chance they'd judge him for not being able to defend himself. As long there was a chance someone would judge him, he could be a target of more violence. And if he could be targeted again, it was likely good ol' Rich would show up again. And that's not ideal. This was nerve-wracking. This was horrible. Michael was ready to excuse himself to the bathroom and disappear. He was ready to feel like he was falling all over again. He was-

"H-hey..." A voice from above broke through Michael's thoughts.

And there he was.

Jeremy Heere.

Jeremy, who had always been decent enough to Michael. Not that they were technically friends, at all. But they had talked. And they had talked enough that Michael got a feel for Jeremy. Kind. Smart. Theatre nerd. Genuine. A pretty sweet and thoughtful guy.

Michael had noticed that Jeremy and Rich used to be friends. It wasn't hard. The two used to be inseparable. Then something had happened between the two of them in freshman year, no one was really sure what. But Jeremy and Rich still hung around sometimes. Michael wasn't sure why. Rich was a bit of a dick. Jeremy was not. Sure, they both had their moments, but Jeremy somehow seemed too nice for Rich. 

"Hey? Can you hear me?"

Michael glanced up, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact, yet still finding himself glancing back at his food (or lack thereof) a few times.

"I...just want to apologize, on my friend's-er...y'know, Rich's-behalf. I...I saw him push you. You're Michael, right?"

Holy shit. Jeremy Heere remembered his name. Michael froze, his words completely lost.

"M-Michael?"

"Shit, sorry. That is your name, right? I didn't mean to get it wrong..."

"No, no, s-sorry. It is Michael, sorry."

"Why would you be sorry?"

"I repeated my name and you second guessed yourself and that's not fun it's more panic inducing then anything, so I'm sorry for making you second guess yourself."

"It's fine," the other teen boy chuckled, "I'm Jeremy." He stuck out his hand.

Michael hesitated for a second before raising his own hand. "I...cool. I mean, yeah, I know..."

"You know?"

On the inside, Michael was absolutely panicking at this point. On the outside, he was attempting to play it cool. He had no idea how he looked, but it was probably a complete, sweaty, choppy breathed mess.

"I just mean that I saw you in that play last April. You did good. I like plays. Maybe not all plays. But Shakespeare is cool on a historic level and you did Midsummer's and that was by him, so that was cool." Michael took a deep breath. "That was weird, I'm sorry."

Jeremy half-smiled and sat down.

"You apologize a lot." he noted.

"I'm sorry..." Michael looked back up to see a solemn look at Jeremy's face. "I-you know what I mean. Sorry. Ugh...freaking..."

"No need to be sorry, everything's fine." Jeremy said. He smiled again. Michael glanced down once again. He prayed to God or the fates or whatever higher being there might be that he wasn't blushing right now. That would only add to the sheer awkwardness he felt. Jeremy didn't really say anything for the rest of lunch. He did give Michael over his yogurt when he saw he had no lunch, though ("It's fine, you need it more than I do." he said when Michael mumbled another apology and tried to hand it back. "I'm lactose intolerant, anyway. I can't have half the crap this school serves us."). He also seemed rather concerned for Michael concerning his arm. He silently listened to Michael as he briefly told the story for the third time that day. And unlike Christine, he really listened. And unlike Jake, he didn't make a deal out of it. Which was another thing Michael appreciated.

Soon enough, the bell rang. Jeremy picked up his binder and laptop and held them to his chest.

"Well, it was nice talking to you."

Michael stood up. "D-do you want to sign my cast?"

"Sorry, what was that?" Jeremy glanced back.

Michael silently berated himself for a moment for wasting both of their time by asking anything before replying with,

"N-nothing, never mind. Go on, don't be late for class."

"Okay..." Jeremy said quietly before walking away for real.

Michael breathed again.  _In, out. In, out._ He made it through one conversation. Or, many small one sided ones that he didn't add much to. But it was something.

If Michael could survive that, he could easily survive the rest of the day. 

He thought.

He hoped.


	4. the letter

_"I know I promised I'd pick you up after Tala and I got our wedding cake ordered, Michael, but there was a change in plans. I have to work late tonight."_

"Mom, isn't there any way you can work around that? Can't you take a break? Can't Tala come pick me up? Can't there be anything?"

_"I'll call her if you want. It might be nice for the two of you to spend some time together before the wedding."_

"Yes, please, anything! I just can't take the bus."

_"As long as you promise to make an effort to ride it eventually, ok, Michael?"_

"Got it."

_"Did you write a letter today?"_

"Yeah, I'm, uh, printing it out now."

_"I really am proud of you, Micah. You know that, right?"_

"Yeah, I know, Mom."

_"I love you, Micah."_

"Love you too, Mom."

Michael pressed 'end call' and pocketed his phone. He was grateful his mom didn't ask what actually happened today. There was no way he would have been able to talk about his awkward morning with Jake, or embarrassing himself at lunch, or the whole...incident with Rich earlier.

Not to mention generally feeling horrible throughout the entire day. Not that that was new, but...

He opened his laptop, pulled up a blank document, and began to type.

**_Dear Michael Mell,_ **

**_Turns out today wasn't that great after all. And it won't be an amazing week, or semester, or year or whatever. Why would it even be?_ **

Michael's mind drifted back to lunch. To be seen, to be noticed, and treated kindly. And by someone like Jeremy? By Jeremy himself?

**_Maybe...maybe because of him. Jeremy Heere.  All my hope is seemingly pinned to him by now. Jeremy Heere. Who I barely know and he doesn't even know me._ **

**_But what if I did? Maybe I could just talk to him and_ **

Whatever he was going to type, Michael realized it was wishful thinking.

_**I could talk to him and nothing would change. Why should it?** _

_**I don't know.** _

_**I guess I just wish I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered. Let's face it, if I disappeared tomorrow, would anyone notice?** _

_**Of course not.** _

Michael stared at what he wrote. God, what a pathetic and miserable existence this letter proved he had.

He began to type again.

**_Try again tomorrow. Stay strong for today._ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_Your best and dearest friend,_ **

**_Me._ **

Michael hooked up his laptop to the closest computer lab and pressed the 'Ctrl, P.' He shuffled into the lab, hoping to be alone, to grab the letter and dash out, only to find none other than  Rich Goranski already there.

_Fuck._

Michael did not want to be near him again. Ever again. If today proved anything, then Rich was definitely no fan of Michael's, and being around him could be hazardous, and Michael just wanted to leave-

"What happened to your arm?"

Michael glanced up.

"Huh?"

"Your arm. What happened, Mell?"

"Oh. I, uh, fell...fell out of a tree,"

Rich snorted. "You fell out of a tree? That's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. A tree. Oh my god." 

Rich kept laughing and Michael mustered a small, extremely forced chuckle.

"I know," Michael muttered.

Rich's laughing began to subside.

"I see nobody's signed the cast."

"I know."

"I'll sign it."

"You'll...what? Y-you don't have to-"

"Do you have a Sharpie?"

Michael looked back at his feet. He handed Rich a marker and held his breath as he came closer. After a second, Rich stepped back. Michael glanced at his cast to see 'RICH" sprawled out, taking up about half the cast.

"Oh, uh, thanks..." he mumbled.

"And now we can both pretend we have friends." Rich said.

"I, uh, yeah? Yeah, you're right."

Michael winced. What an idiot he must have sounded like.

Rich grabbed the top paper in the printer. 

"Is this yours? 'Dear Michael Mell." That's you right?"

Michael, still on edge, just nodded. He waited for Rich to hand him the letter.

But he didn't.

"Wha- 'Because there's Jeremy." What about Jeremy? Is this about him?"

"Well, no, not really- no! It was for an assignment-"

"I know why you wrote this," Rich grumbled. "You wrote this so I would find it. You saw I was the only person in here and printed it so I would find it."

"W-why would I-" Michael was cut off.

"So you wrote some creepy nonsense about  **** **my** best friend, about **MY** man, and then I would freak out, right?! So then you could tell everyone about how crazy I am, RIGHT?!" Rich screamed.

"No, why would I-"

"FUCK YOU!" Rich screeched. He stormed out of the computer lab, letter still in hand.

"Wait!" Michael called. "Please, give it back, I need it for something! It's not like that, I swear-"

Rich was already long gone.

Michael started tearing up. This was it. His life was over. Rich was going to show Jeremy the letter and their friendship would be over before it started. He was going to make copies and post them all over the school and label Michael as a creep. He was...he was...

Michael completely broke down, a sobbing, panicking, barely breathing mess.

He didn't even notice his phone go off when he was finally being picked up by his mom's fiancée from the school and the mess.

**Author's Note:**

> You may have noticed Michael’s therapist is named Reyes. 
> 
> That’s Mr. Reyes’ wife ok?


End file.
